On aging

for paNOW

There is a lot to be said for being 70 — most of it lies.

There are changes one never expected, such as elegant, smooth, graceful, long-fingered hands that now look like leather golf gloves forgotten in the backyard for the winter — stiff, dry and gnarled.

Research into medical mysteries becomes a much sought after learning experience — a stroll through medical extranium. A test for the new trifocals.

I, for one, have discovered at least a dozen cures for the brown spots now taking over the delicate creamy porcelain skin once adorning my youthful face and arms (and hands and legs). Peroxide doesn’t work. Milk doesn’t work, although milkmen are becoming phenomenally busy as the population ages. Corn flour and honey spread on old socks and applied morning, noon and night for eight weeks doesn’t work. Tea bags soaked in lemon juice and motor oil, applied during the dark of the moon just makes a mess.

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The mind begins to deteriorate somewhat. Old folks (I resent that) are encouraged to undertake games for the brain, learn a new language, learn to appreciate trigonometry after all.

I decided to learn a new language. I can now struggle for only 10 minutes and come up with a complicated three word sentence without my electronic translator! I found out recently that I am studying German. I distinctly remember signing up for Spanish. Secretaries today make so many glaring errors with everything I ask them to do. They haven’t any idea in the world what an Underwood is either.

Youths are not taught the basics, such as Greek or Egyptian card games. It truly would help them to guess what the heck old bat is on about this time and politely explaining it for the fifth time. In my day, we learned Latin poetry — which still might prove useful: “Penelope, thy dark eyes are like holes in the aqueduct…”.

Old age is a time for creativity. Forgetfulness is a challenge for any aging mind. I have devised little tricks. For instance, I am reminded the laundry has been in the washer for three days when I see the red sock tied to the bannister. I have the grown children wear name tags. It avoids the embarrassment of having called Kevin by his brother what’s-his-face’s name all night. Teaching the dog to get up on the table now reminds me where the roast is/was.

Memory tricks help one know how, for example, how many times one has told this joke. Studying body language is a good guide. Rolling eyes and frequent glances toward the door are good indicators that yes, they have heard that joke and furthermore, they kicked the slats out of their cribs the first time I told it.

Meeting new people is not always a joy, in fact it can be downright depressing. For example, in the past few weeks I have met six or 11 new doctors, all of whom have told me the same thing. What do they learn in doctor school these days? “That is not good for your health.” Young puppies! Limburger cheese, onion and Tobasco sandwiches may give a little gas, but so what? If drinking, smoking, dancing all night on a diet of pop and pretzels and beer for breakfast this past decades hasn’t killed me yet, why is he always badgering me about it? I hate yogurt, and that other stuff – what is it? Um, oh yes, TOFU! And can you believe it? They let WOMEN try to be doctors too!

See what kind of mind I have?